The "connected" life

I briefly wake up, somewhere in the darks of night. I see my mobile lying silently by my pillow, synchronously flashing a tiny white light every alternate second. I catch hold of it and punch the button, its 3:02 am, my phone tells me. What it also tells me, is few messages from Wats app that are lined up for me to read. Those may not need my immediate attention; however, my urge to check the messages comfortably defeats my mind which keeps yelling at my eyes- “There are 3 long cozy hours of sleep ahead, shut down”.

This happens almost regularly, each night a different time from late night gets captured as my “last seen”. Sometimes I also see my Wifi router LEDs blinking, whoa- its still broadcasting whatever the world has to offer me, even at midnight. I close wats app to open MoneyControl, and check how Americans are fishing in Dow Jones today. Occasional alerts from Facebook keep the phone buzzing thereafter, now that’s what my generation calls a “sound” sleep.

Come morning, I wake up, unwinding myself and rubbing my eyes, eager to check if the latest pictures I shared of my kid yesterday have received more likes throughout the night; after all, why under estimate the friendship I share with my distant friends in the USA? And also with few nocturnal ones in India, again, I may not be the only one shrugging off some sleep at 3:02 am?

Friendship, kinship, bonding, relationships, are all polymorphous terms with defined measures and intensities these days. “You click a really bad photograph and share it on FB, which still receives hundreds of likes, it doesn't make your photo good; it only proves you have lot of friends” said an eminent photographer in a recent seminar. Likes and comments on FB, and group memberships in Wats app actually “measure” your engagement in relationships.

With waning tolerance, lack of patience, brittle egos, brevity in conversation and swift mood swings, are we being vexed by this “over connection”? A famous life column in TOI once discussed about the socially coy lot as being most vulnerable to this feeling of “being left out”. The more the internet penetrates into our lives, the more it leaves us feeling left out (FLO). At times boredom and depression starts mounting, making us feel deprived of all the good things that our online friends do, and more importantly, flash on the internet. People broadcasting their covert feelings loudly are making themselves vulnerable to either a collective mockery or jealousy of these FLOs. Many times however, this loudness is in itself a way to shun the silence caused by the boredom and dullness in our own life. Every single like cheers us up momentarily.

Responding to the warning bells, some people have actually started implementing "No mobile Saturdays" or similar initiatives, just an attempt to momentarily disconnect from gadgets and connect with life. Some bonds actually require us to untangle from the web and let ourselves free from the callous and overly-clung world of internet. Personal meet ups are claiming space and hobby enthusiasts are actually collaborating to craft out a life outside the web. Well, life still breathes more comfortably outside the mobile phones and tablets.

Doesn't a mug of coffee with an interesting book in hand and classic track around entice you as much as a group of old friends laughing their heart out on a fun filled evening? There actually is much more to life than what meets the eye on the gadgets.

Just as James Bond says in Skyfall, sometimes the old methods are most effective. You bet!

P.S: If you feel this blog reads your heart out, please share. I'll be counting my blessings every time I wake up tonight ;)

Being a dad

It’s been a couple of months now that I’ve been a dad. Fatherhood hasn’t really sunk deep in me yet, probably coz my wife and kid are still at my in-laws’ place, which limits me to meeting them only on weekends; and my demanding professional priorities, which have been overriding my personal ones for the last few weeks. I haven’t spent as many sleepless nights for my kid as my in-laws have (building kind of guilt in me at times), but that only adds to the void which makes me yearn for the weekend each day.

It was 6^th of December and I had left early from office, delegating all my office work for the coming week to my team. It was my niece’s 4^th birthday, and she was to become a “tai” (elder sister) the next morning. A quick celebration was followed by our rush to the Deenanath Mangeshkar hospital, where surgery was scheduled the following morning.

7^th of December was the D day; the regular winter chill was different for us that morning. We anxiously waited as Anuja was being operated; my hunches said a “boy”, while my heart yearned for a “girl”. And there it was, a pink little life wrapped in blue, the surgeon informed- it’s a healthy baby boy. Our joy knew no bounds; what a feeling that is when you witness life begetting another life. A part of you, a delicate one in flesh and bones, that breathes life by itself and cries softly, with eyes, still tightly closed and hands cuddled up to the chest, innocently searching the coziness of a mother’s womb. You feel reborn, as a father this time, when you hold your kid in your arms for the first time. At first you struggle, not letting yourself disturb the tenderness that nature demands for a new born. You tend to touch the tender hands and the soft feet, you wish it could open its eyes and respond to the names you call it with. It’s that “awesome” moment when you practically feel your prayers being answered and wishes being granted.

I’ve been visiting my in-laws every weekend since then; each time I see changes in his features- chubbier cheeks, cleaner skin, wider eyes and fairer glow. He looks at me with innocent and seemingly curious eyes, as if trying to recognize or ask few questions, probably trying to relate with me as a stranger with familiar voice. They say an infant recognizes the voice he’s been hearing and the touch he’s been feeling ever since his senses develop during pregnancy. No wonder, he responds positively to classical music that Anuja would hear frequently throughout her days.

My kid is growing up and is getting healthier by the day. He senses the touch of a stranger and recognizes the hands he is comfortable in, consciously defining the boundaries of his own comfort zone; at times he responds our words with a sweet little innocent smile.

Everyone says he inherits his looks from Anuja, although I have a naive eye towards finding resemblance in people, I do not disagree, as that makes him more beautiful to my eyes :-).